


Never Eat Soggy Waffles

by DaintyDuck_99



Series: Mabel's Theory of Relative Crushes [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Banjo bashing, Dipper Compares Himself to a Cupcake, Don't take directions from Mabel, F/M, Minor Swearing, There's a Method to the Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3499133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyDuck_99/pseuds/DaintyDuck_99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan knows his great-nephew and niece have plenty of virtues, more than he can boast of in himself. However, giving directions is not one of them, so far as 1/2 of the duo is concerned anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Country and Into the Woods

"Stan wrong song..." said embodiment of gruff smoke and mirrors concealing a heart of-- not gold, but some kind of bronze alloy, grumbled under his breath, in a vain attempt to drain the dregs of country music stubbornly sitting in his ears. Those dumb vanilla banjo riffs rang in your head for days. On the bright side, they had yet to cause him to wrap the car around a tree. As a matter of fact, he was absolutely certain he had no clue where they were going. Mabel's directions consisted of 'never eat soggy waffles so yeah, waffles.' He hoped that she meant west, but maybe she was speaking in limericks. Pre-teen girl limericks. 

Maybe Waffles was some kind of skeevy stalker from the Internet who'd convinced sweet darling Mabel that he was a Backstroke Boy or something. Good thing Stan had his brass knuckles in one of the compartments in his fez, as usual. Dipper certainly didn't inherit his need to be prepared to the hilt from his quasi-ditzy dad. Not to rip on Jeremiah, who was also astronomically considerate and brilliant in a scholarly way. Sometimes, he simply forgot key components of his day. Like car keys. Or shoes. The survival that comes with not drinking Mabel Juice.

"Are we there yet?" Juice Queen herself inquired in that desperate, stretched out yowl that only children and young animals can achieve. "I have no idea. If you wanted 100 percent unrealistic GPS clarity, you should've drove." "YUS!" Mabel lunged for the wheel. "NO!" Stan screamed along with Dipper (whose knuckles were bone white around his large book) as he steered with one hand and batted away Mabel's grabby ones with the other. "You owe me thirty dollars in gas money as it is. And fifty for the almost heart attack." 

She was pouting; he could feel it despite the dissonance with her cheerful sweater (yellow, with music notes). "It was your idea," she protested weakly. 

"Overall, this episode was YOUR idea," Dipper commented, putting a huge dent in the premise of her argument with his sledgehammer of reasoning. "Maybe you should tell Stan where we're going. Correction: are." 

Stan grimaced as the Northwest Mansion unfurled into view. Of course; it was the only thing west of Gravity Falls short of the Pacific Ocean. That name again. Why the devil would anyone name their kid after their back-porch property? Did they just not care? Stan himself might be somewhat conniving, but at least he didn't call the kids "Woodpile" and "Gompers". "You kids have some 'splainin' to do," he uttered darkly.


	2. Park for Plan A-Z

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel attempts to explain Plan Alpha to the love befuddled pair of y-chromosome sporting Pines who are along for the ride, but nothing goes quite...not awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might be a bit off, I just wasn't quite inside the story when I wrote this. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

"...so Dipper sashays through the Northwest's big overlook window, and into Pacifica's heart!" Mabel proudly divulged her (most recent) master plan. Two bewildered Pines males googled at her. She had put it all out there in layman's terms! Men. Truly clueless in matters of the heart. At least, Pines men were. Luckily for them, Mabel was a bonafide WO-man. Almost...she wasn't quite big enough to sport heels yet. 

"Ah, how do I smash through a huge, fortified window that's probably rubbing elbows with a lot of dollar signs?" 

"How do I rub elbows with that many dollar signs short of buyin' out the YMCA?" 

Mabel booped her head off of the passenger window, wishing she had recruited Wendy for back-up. "Boys..." she murmured. So much for Plan Alpha. The grappling hook wasn't the linchpin, but she had been looking forward to that part! Oh well. Plan Beta had plenty of room to improvise.

"Mabel, that essentially is improvising. It's like improvising and karaoke had a baby at the border of Insanity and nobody knows what to do with it." Dipper countered when she launched into her latest explanation. "Dip-Dop," she flapped his concern away with her strangely unoccupied hands as she spoke, "that's like exactly what happens in your Lord of the Harry Pooper books. You'll be fine! You know the drill! Plus Grunkle Stan and I will be right behind you all of the way! The power of love, one hundred percent." 

Dipper hummed in that I'm-thinking-and-there-are-no-pens-to-chew-up-so-I'll-hum-like-the-scholars-on-television way. "Well, we drove all the way out here, so I guess it would be silly to back out now," was the final verdict, and Mabel squealed. "Bro-bro, I knew you'd see the light!" 

Stan righted his fez and looked Mabel right in the eye. "Wait, he's trying to woo the Northwest brat? I thought you were talking about smashing materialistic hearts. Not plumping them up like pillows!" 

"She was different last time!" Dipper shot back, though Mabel was the one in 'da hot seat'. "If you'd seen that vulnerable, maskless girl, you'd feel the same." 

"Are you talking about me?" A blonde head popped in through the sunroof, making a waterfall of silky yellow hair appear in the middle of the Stanley Mobile. Attached to it was one Pacifica Northwest, wearing a curious, only mildly haughty expression and no eyeshadow. 

You know, ever since Mabel had piled into the car and tuned in to a country station, nothing had gone quite according to plan.


	3. Dipper, the Old Man and Paz, the Newborn Duckling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica ventures out of the mansion at exactly the right time, and the Pines family defuses the atmosphere as only they can. Tries to tie in with Remastered, which is a short about Pacifica, so if you're up to it you can read that one as well. C:

Pacifica feels on top of the world. Funny that the compass at the foot of her heart would read that way. In reality, she is splayed upside-down, head halfway in the sunroof of the infamous, taco-fostering Pines family vehicle. They're drinking her in the way she wants to be accepted for the rest of her life:as a completely new person. It's evident in the slack muscles under their eyes( three pairs of chocolate moons) and the astounded 'o's of their lips. Their faces have expanded like a camera shutter unfurling; they are reassessing her far less shiny, dirty blonde hair, vulnerable, naked green eyes, and the streaks of dirt snaking up her collarbone. She is not Pacifica Northwest, the spotless, heartless swan with bound wings. She is just Pacifica, the newborn duckling with a timid pulse and saucer eyes ready to record every adventure. 

"A spidey, suave, Hollywood Peter Parker entrance? Wow, Paz, I had that one saved up for the wedding plans." Mabel is the first of the bushy, bewildered, vaguely Jewish clan to find her voice. Pacifica isn't sure what Mabel is insinuating, and she doesn't care. The warm current in the tone is what makes her chest tight. Pacifica Northwest was not familiar with friendly, silly people, but Paz wants to be. 

"Maybe you should quit telling people that you've meticulously organized what are supposed to be some of the most serendipitous moments of their lives." Dipper offers to his twin, probably not ready to address the elephant in the car...aka Pacifica. Mabel pouts, and somehow even her braces are frowning. "It only sounds creepy when you say it like a ninety year old man, bro-bro." 

"Still creepy," Stan confirms with a shudder. No one questions his credibility, as usual, Pacifica notes bemusedly. "If I agree," she ventures, "can I hitch a ride to anywhere but here?"


	4. Dipper Dubs Pacifica (Sort of, Actually Everybody is Lost Aside from Metaphorically)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Dipper, there is a safe place for everything in his head. He's fine, no matter how physically lost he gets. But what is he supposed to make of the muddy fallen princess riding beside him?

Mabel is the most whimsical kind of frosting on the name 'Pines', Dipper is certain. If Mabel is the frosting, Dipper is the plain vanilla cupcake that supports her. He appears to be bland, but he is bold and sometimes sweet with awkward, bookish hands, or surprisingly sour with cynicism and a catacomb of large words. 

There is more to him than meets the eye. Yet, predictably, he has a library in his head for filing away every little thing. Everyone in the car has a place: Mabel, his fairy sparkle, icing fluttering, sunshine sister. Grunkle Stan, the tough old pudding with a soft center, fostering all kinds of flavors. Himself, the sweet and sour adventurer with sleepy sensitive eyes, and bony knees. 

But Pacifica Northwest is a mystery. 

Once, anyone could have identified her. The blonde bitch bent with smoldering hate. A heavy scowl on a hollow pretty face. But in a short time, she has changed. Gone are the smoke and blood, mirrors and parties and purple eye shadow. She's sitting beside him with muddy legs and a tangled forest for hair on her head, where a party crown used to be. She's laughing at Mable's antics and wobbling with awkward smiles that haven't yet learned to walk, to light up her face with joy instead of hate. 

He's an adventurer, and she's a fledgling, and literally, they have no clue where they're going. But maybe, they can forge something. 

They get terribly lost, but he doesn't mind too much after she grabs his hand. 

Until, of course, Mabel produces picture after picture of wedding bands. 

FIN


End file.
